


I'll Cover You With A Thousand Sweet Kisses

by Ineffable_Idiot



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel Kisses, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale invented that 'la bise' greeting, Blushing, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Deleted Scene: Aziraphale's Bookshop 1800 (Good Omens), Feelings, Fluff, Freckles, Freckles Are Kisses From Angels, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Non-Sexual Intimacy, This is the reason Crowley knows what Aziraphale smells like, Touch-Starved Crowley (Good Omens), Unresolved Romantic Tension, but they won't damn well say it, can be read as asexual, god they pine so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffable_Idiot/pseuds/Ineffable_Idiot
Summary: After his narrow escape from the guillotine, Aziraphale created a greeting in hopes to spread some peace throughout those violent times. And it worked very well. When he shows it to Crowley seven years later, they both learn it has an unintended angelic consequence. Not that either of them are complaining when it leads to a long-desired intimate situation disguised as 'fixing their problem'.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 228





	I'll Cover You With A Thousand Sweet Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> I remembered that "Freckles are angel kisses" thing out of nowhere, and then that kissing someone on the cheeks used to be a common greeting, and it just spiraled into this ficlet idea that would not leave me alone until I wrote it. Enjoy!

To say that Aziraphale was excited about opening his bookshop was the biggest understatement the new century would hear. He was positively delighted, whistling merrily to himself as he carefully placed leather-bound books upon barren shelves. Nearly a decade of preparation, construction, and dedication were finally paying off. He could already picture how wonderful it would look when finished and open.

Behind him, the shop door opened, given away with a soft _ding_ from the bell above it. 

"I am afraid the shop will not be open until Friday, good people," he addressed whoever had just entered without turning around. "But we will be having a grand opening immediately after lunch..."

"We aren't here to buy books, Aziraphale." a familiar voice interrupted. Tensing, Aziraphale turned to see Gabriel and Sandalphon passing through the doorway, their usual expectant smiles on their faces.

"Oh. Oh, dear." He hadn't scheduled a meeting, nor was he due for a report of his progress on Earth. There was only one thing he could think of that would explain the unannounced appearance. "Listen, if it's about that business in Paris, um, it wasn't my miracle." Or what if they weren't here about the miracle? What if they'd spotted him after, when he'd been out having lunch with Crowley? Oh no, what if...

"I have no idea whereof you speak, oh Angel of the Eastern Gate. We're here with good news."

Aziraphale sighed in relief. "Oh! How lovely." he said, setting the book he'd had in his hands down on a shelf and preparing for said 'good news'. 

"We're bringing you home." Gabriel declared. 

"Promoting you back upstairs." Sandalphon piped up. Both archangels watched him expectantly, awaiting Aziraphale's unbounded joy.

The joy didn't come. Aziraphale's brow furrowed. "I'm opening this bookshop on Friday. If Master Hatchard can make a go of it, then I think I can really..."

"It's an excellent idea." Gabriel interjected again. "Whoever replaces you down here can obviously use it as a base of operations."

" _Use my_ bookshop?" Aziraphale asked incredulously. That was not the intended purpose of his shop! And he'd worked so hard at getting it built, acquiring all the books for it, preparing for the opening this weekend, just for him to leave it now?

The archangels still seemed to see nothing wrong with their 'news'. "You're being promoted. You get to come home." Gabriel reiterated. 

"I can't imagine why anyone would want to spend five minutes longer in this world than they had to." Sandalphon said, his statement pointed more to Gabriel than Aziraphale.

"Aziraphale has been here for almost six thousand years. We must applaud such devotion to duty." Gabriel explained, yielding no actual applause. Instead he produced a small box by way of miracle, and opened it to reveal a shimmering medal. "And it hasn't gone unnoticed."

In any other situation, Aziraphale would be elated over his efforts finally being appreciated. But the prospect of having to leave his shop before he even had a chance to enjoy it drowned out any pleasure he might've had in terms of the recognition.

"I don't want a medal." he protested. Maybe he could persuade them into letting him stay.

"That's very noble of you." Gabriel brushed off.

Dismayed and getting quite desperate, Aziraphale peered out over the archangels shoulders, racking his brain for any excuse. His stomach dropped at what he found instead. Crowley, looking handsome as ever, stood in the open doorway just out of Gabriel and Sandalphon's lines of sight, holding a package and waving happily. Of all the times for him to show up... 

_Wait_.

"But only I can properly thwart the wiles of the demon Crowley." Aziraphale blurted. Perhaps him showing up now was fortuitous after all. That was a perfect reason to stay on Earth. 

Behind the archangels, Crowley frowned, confused. Holding up the package he'd brought, he mouthed 'Chocolates' and pointed at it enthusiastically.

Had the archangels not been present, Aziraphale would've allowed himself to cherish how sweet that was. Be that as it may, he tore his gaze away from the demon in time to hear Gabriel's next words. "I do not doubt whoever replaces you will be as good an enemy to Crowley as you are. Michael, perhaps."

Crowley's jaw dropped in sudden understanding. 'Michael?' he mouthed. 'Michael's a wanker!' 

Aziraphale pursed his lips, nonplussed at Crowley's silent exclamation. He turned his attention back to the archangels. "Crowley's been down here just as long as I have. And he's wily, and cunning, and brilliant and _oh..."_ He cut himself off before his description of Crowley's attributes as a nemesis accidentally turned into his list of reasons why he admired the demon.

Too late.

"It almost sounds like you like him." Gabriel said skeptically, to which Aziraphale didn't miss Crowley smirking at behind him.

"I loathe him!" Aziraphale objected, feeling his cheeks heat up. "And despite myself I respect a worthy opponent. Which he isn't because he's a demon and I cannot respect a demon. Or like one." he added, eyes darting back and forth between the archangels and Crowley, who he wished would _leave_ already before he got _caught_.

Somehow not picking up on how suspicious this whole ordeal was, Gabriel brightened up again. "That's the attitude I like to hear. You'll be an asset back at head office, I can tell you that."

At last, Crowley slipped out of sight as Gabriel placed the medal around Aziraphale's neck. The angel's heart sank as he realized there was no getting out of this. Gabriel and Sandalphon were adamant about his return, and left no room for argument.

"So... We're going straight back now? Before the grand opening?"

"Well, soon." Gabriel answered. "We're just going to stroll down to Cork Street to see my tailor." They turned on their heels and exited the shop. 

With them gone, Aziraphale's face fell. He was going to have to leave his shop, the planet he'd become so fond of, and he wasn't even going to get to say a proper goodbye to Crowley. His stomach twisted with guilt as he realized the last thing Crowley would hear from him was that he loathed him. Try as he had over the years, loathing Crowley was the last thing Aziraphale could do. 

Dejectedly, he turned to the boxes of books he had previously been attending to, all traces of the cheeriness he carried himself with earlier gone. He figured he might as well get the shop as prepared for opening as he could before he left. 

A good twenty minutes later, Aziraphale felt the presences of Gabriel and Sandalphon before hearing the bell over the door chime. He plastered on a neutral expression, not having it in him to pretend to be happy over this, and started walking toward the doorway.

"Aziraphale, disregard what we told you earlier." Gabriel, wearing a new suit, said. Aziraphale froze in his tracks, taken aback. He glanced between the two archangels as Gabriel's words sunk in.

"So, I'm... not going anywhere?" he asked, hope creeping into his voice.

"Change of plans." Gabriel explained. "We need you here. In your bookshop. Battling evil."

Sandalphon leaned forward, giving Aziraphale what was meant to be a good-natured punch on the arm. It hurt. "Carry on battling."

"Keep the medal." said Gabriel.

Aziraphale looked up from his arm, which he was rubbing over the spot Sandalphon punched.

"But, I don't understand." Aziraphale stopped when he saw the archangels had disappeared, leaving him alone in the bookshop. He blinked a few times, not entirely sure what just happened.

He... he could stay. He didn't have to return to his head office after all. Confused as he was, a grin broke over his face. His excitement restored, he went to close the door the archangels had left open, removing the medal from its place around his neck as he did so. When he turned to get back to work as usual, he let out a startled gasp when he saw who was leaning against the shelf he'd just been filling.

"Hello, Aziraphale."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale beamed. Without a second thought, he strode over until he was directly in front of his friend. Crowley held out his hand, thinking Aziraphale was intending a handshake, but froze when the angel instead leaned in to place a chaste, barely-there kiss on both of the demons cheeks. "I'm glad to see you. The most peculiar thing just happened," Aziraphale went on once he pulled away. "Well, you were here to see what happened with Gabriel and Sandalphon earlier, but they just came back to... Are you alright?" He cut himself off upon seeing that Crowley had gone rigid.

"Eeuhh, nuh, yeh." Crowley stuttered, looking bewildered. "Yeah. Wha - what did you just do?" he asked, vaguely gesturing between them.

"Oh, it's a new way to greet people. I admit it's mainly common in France, not here, but it's rather delightful regardless, don't you think?" 

Crowley nodded, flushing slightly. "Yeah, I s'pose." He ran a hand over his cheek where Aziraphale's lips had touched. "It's... good that they found something to do with their heads other than cutting them off."

"Yes, quite. I'd actually created it as a way to oppose all the violence going on back then, and they seem to have taken it wonderfully well." Aziraphale explained proudly. He'd made up the greeting shortly after his and Crowley's little meet-up in the Bastille seven years ago, and was very pleased to see it become so popular. Had he been a shred honest with himself, he had created it with subdued hopes of getting to share it with Crowley.

He'd been eager for a justifiable means of showing the demon affection, whether he'd admit it to himself or not. His invention of the friendly French greeting was a perfect fit, and he had been wanting to introduce it to Crowley for some time.

Now that he had, Aziraphale felt positively aflutter. And a little worried. Crowley almost looked uncomfortable at the contact. Perhaps he'd gone too fast, he could see how it was a bit forward.

"If you don't like it, then I won't..." Aziraphale hastened to apologize, but Crowley cut him off.

"No, no, 's fine. Just caught me off guard, is all." He cleared his throat awkwardly before reaching to grab a box off the shelf beside him. "Here, congratulations on opening your shop, and, er, not having to go back to Heaven." he said, holding out the box of chocolates he'd first arrived with. 

Aziraphale's face broke into a smile as he took the box from Crowley's hands. "Oh, _thank you_... I..." The angel paused, noticing something about his friends words. "I hadn't told you I'm not returning to Heaven yet."

Crowley's usual confident smirk returned. "You didn't need to tell me, I was the one who made sure you'd stay."

For a moment, the angels eyes widened. What did he mean? What had he done? Would they get in trouble? A small panic began blooming in the pit of his stomach that gradually calmed as Crowley continued on to specify exactly what he did. He listened as Crowley told him he'd followed the archangels to the tailor, and tricked them into thinking they'd caught him discussing the merits of Aziraphale's departure with another demon.

"It was quite the performance, I have to say." he finished, about to follow up with a remark on how foolish the archangels were, but it died in his throat seeing how Aziraphale's face had lit up with such sincere gratitude.

" _Crowley_ ," Aziraphale breathed. "That's so very nice of you."

"Nng, don't mention it. Demons aren't 'nice'." 

"Of course, just..." Aziraphale sighed happily. "I'm extraordinarily thankful for you- what you did." he corrected a second too late. A heavy silence lay in the air before he spoke again. "Here, allow me to show you around, then what do you say we get a spot of supper?"

"Lead on, angel." Crowley said, gesturing with his arm for Aziraphale to do so.

And so he did, glancing up at Crowley's face fondly. As he walked past the demon to give him the tour, he did a discreet double-take. He told himself he probably just missed it earlier, and it wasn't that big of a deal at all, but even so he couldn't help but wonder...

Had Crowley always had those freckles?

* * *

Crowley awoke the next morning staring at the ceiling in a blissful daze. He'd replayed those few seconds from the previous afternoon in his head many times over, lingering on that fleeting feeling of Aziraphale's lips brushing gently over his cheeks. Sure, it might've been a bit ridiculous to think so much about something so brief and insignificant, but it had felt anything but insignificant to him.

Of course he'd lie about it to anyone who asked, for both his and the angels safety, but he certainly couldn't lie to himself and say he hadn't wondered before what a kiss from Aziraphale would feel like.

He bit his lip, rolling onto his side.

He knew now... sort of. Those few seconds, that feather-light touch had been delightful, but it was over too fast. He hadn't been expecting Aziraphale to lean in so close, tenderly press his lips to Crowley's face like it was nothing. If he'd known, prepared himself, perhaps he could've enjoyed it more. 

Perhaps he _could_ enjoy it more.

Aziraphale had said the humans had taken these cheek kisses up as a common greeting. Since they were meant to be keeping up appearances and doing as the humans did, then it wouldn't it be safe, or even expected of them to do it again?

Would Aziraphale want to do it again?

"Ngk," Crowley said, dragging himself out of his bed. No, with how awkward he'd been after the slightest touch between them yesterday, it was unlikely Aziraphale would try that with him again. Additionally, he was a demon, as Aziraphale tended to constantly point out, not someone an angel would actively want to share such an intimate greeting with more than once.

Right?

No matter, he needed to get those thoughts out of his head. He was due for an evil deed of some sort, having been somewhat lax in that department the recent months, and today seemed as good a day as any for some sin. He miracled a classy black suit on his body, content to keep those brief kisses as a pleasant memory to look back on repetitiously.

Heading for the door, he took a quick glance at the mirror to make sure he looked his best, and slipped on his sunglasses as he continued on. He'd long passed the mirror and was halfway out the door when he felt something was off.

_Wait._

Nearly tripping over his own feet, he backtracked over to the mirror again, removing his glasses with a flourish as he stared deep into his reflection with confusion. 

"Those weren't there before." Crowley muttered to the empty air. Tiny wisps of freckles that he knew for a fact he hadn't put there himself now decorated both his cheekbones in two small patches. It wouldn't have been so off-putting had they not appeared to be precariously placed upon his face, symmetrical on each cheek and nowhere else. With an upward flick of his wrist, he made to snap them away. Except they didn't disappear. Crowley's brow furrowed and he very deliberately snapped his fingers again, focusing his mind on making them vanish. Yet again, the freckles stubbornly stayed in those unnatural lines along his face.

That wasn't right. He racked his brain. It wasn't as if his demonic powers weren't working, he'd just used them to dress himself. And where had these come from? Had he miracled them there without noticing? 

No, of course not, that's complete nonsense. Of course he would notice if he'd made a change to his corporation. Besides, if he was going to wear freckles, they would be much more sparse and on other places than just... exactly where Aziraphale had kissed yesterday.

Crowley stumbled back as though he'd been physically struck by the realization. Could...? No, he couldn't. But it was awfully coincidental. _Could_ Aziraphale have had something to do with their appearance? It would explain why they wouldn't damn well fade, maybe angelic miracles couldn't be easily erased by demonic attempts.

Or maybe he was just crazy. That logic seemed questionable, but there was really only one way to find out, wasn't there? 

Such led him back to Aziraphale's to-be bookshop. For a moment, he stood outside the door feeling a little odd about this whole scenario. Because really, what does one say in this situation?

_Hey Aziraphale, sorry to bother you, but I think you accidentally tattooed my face with your lips, and I can't fix it myself. Do you know anything about this?_

Yeah, that wasn't strange at all.

But it's not as though there were many other ways to break it to the angel. He swaggered through the bookshop door, and a surprised Aziraphale appeared from behind a half-full bookshelf.

"Hello, Crowley." he greeted in his usual chipper voice. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, hi, maybe." 

Aziraphale walked over to him, slightly confused and a bit concerned seeing Crowley's demeanor. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, ehm, you remember yesterday you showed me that greeting you made?" 

Now very concerned, Aziraphale nodded. 

"These showed up because of it, I think," Crowley explained, turning his head to show Aziraphale the odd positioning of the freckles. "I tried miracling them away, but it didn't work. Obviously. Wondered if you'd know what's going on." He was taken aback when he looked back to the angel and saw an uncomfortable recognition flicker through his features. "You do know, don't you?"

"Well, I have an inkling. I - I'd hoped those were something you'd done to yourself, it would've meant it wasn't true, but clearly that's not the case." Aziraphale rambled, looking embarrassed of all things.

"Hold on, angel, wait." Crowley held up a hand. "What are you talking about?"

"The... oh, dear." Aziraphale peered out the nearest window nervously, then continued in a hushed voice. "The humans, they have this little phrase, 'Freckles are kisses from angels.' I'd thought it was something they'd thought up, because we angels don't go around kissing everybody, but I can see I was mistaken. Those," he gestured to the small marks on Crowley's cheeks, "are my fault. I'm so terribly sorry."

"Aziraphale." Crowley cut him off, dread slowly etching its way into his chest as he realized what this would mean. "It's fine, I'm not blaming you. But this, their phrase, that's known? Widely?"

"Well, by me, yes. And whichever angel started it had to have known, whoever that had been. Maybe a few other angels as well." 

"So what you're saying is there might be a demon downstairs who knows about this, and we're busted the second I go back?"

Aziraphale's eyes went wide with crestfallen panic. "Oh, _Crowley,_ I'm so sor... no, look, until we figure out how to get those off of you, just don't go back to Hell." he said, wringing his hands apologetically. 

"'S not that easy, I'm meant to go down there today, recount the sins I've... sinned." Crowley said, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. Contrary to Aziraphale, he wasn't worried over this so much as inconvenienced. He was amazing at bullshitting to the other demons, he did it all the time in his reports. He knew he could think up some excuse for the freckles, tell them that he liked the way they looked, but the precision of where they were placed were sure to raise some eyebrows. Even Hastur knew his fashion sense wasn't _that_ weird. He sighed in mild irritation. "I mean, I could lie to my side about it no problem, but it'd be a lot less effort if we could just get rid of these as easily as you put them there."

Aziraphale froze. Crowley could practically see the wheels turning in the angels head as he pondered what Crowley said. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "Perhaps... perhaps we could get rid of them like that." 

"... _what?"_ Crowley's cheeks flushed as Aziraphale's words sank in.

"Well, you mentioned you couldn't remove them, but it would make sense if I could, since I'm the one who caused them."

"The angel giveth and the angel taketh away kind of thing?" Crowley shot back, arching a brow and folding his arms over his chest.

"Maybe. I'm not entirely sure, but it sounds like it would work. If - if you're amenable, that is." Aziraphale added, his own cheeks growing rosy. 

Crowley went stock still for a moment, not believing his ears. After he'd _just_ told himself there was no way this would happen again... No, no, Aziraphale was only going to do this so their clandestine meet-ups would remain undiscovered. Nothing more to it than that.

"Nyeh, sure, amenable, that's me. Let's get rid of 'em." he said, slowly stepping toward the angel until he stood directly in front of him. 

Aziraphale cleared his throat and peered up at Crowley, gaze uncertain as if silently asking permission. The demon turned his head to the right in response. His eyelids fluttered shut as he leaned forward, and tenderly pressed his lips against the small patch of freckled skin on Crowley's cheek. 

Every muscle in Crowley's body tensed up, and he choked back a sigh. This kiss felt so much more intimate than the friendly kisses he'd been given the previous day, and his body wanted to melt into the overwhelming feeling of Aziraphale's mouth on him. How could something be so soft and so intense all at once? He was suddenly very grateful for his glasses, it would be too much if Aziraphale were to look into his eyes and see just how much this meant to him. 

Too soon, Aziraphale pulled away, and Crowley released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding.

"Did... did it work?" his voice came out barely a whisper.

Aziraphale bit his bottom lip as he scrutinized the area he'd just kissed. His expression flickered with discouragement when he saw more freckles appear around that spot instead of the current ones fading away. "No, I - I'm afraid I rather made it worse." He took a step back, feeling defeated. "I'm so very sorry, Crowley. I want to help you, but I'm doing the exact opposite."

"They're really not going away?" Crowley asked, trying to snap them away one more time to no avail. Aziraphale shook his head somberly, and Crowley's heart ached to see how distressed the angel looked, all over a few freckles. That just wouldn't do. "Y'know, if I had _more_ of these, more, eh, spread out, I could convince Hell I put them there myself if they ask. You'd be a big help, tremendous even, if you gave me the means to do that." 

As soon as the words were out, Crowley inwardly cringed. That was so obviously a plea to be kissed again, and he felt as though he was somehow taking advantage of the situation. His face flushed warm again, and he half considered telling the angel to forget the whole thing, but to his surprise Aziraphale almost seemed on board with it. As on board with it as Aziraphale could be, anyway.

Aziraphale cast a nervous glance skyward, as if the archangels were listening to their every word. They must not have been, because his next words sounded tentatively hopeful rather than dismissive.

"If I were to... bless you with more freckles, as it were, you're sure Hell wouldn't find out?"

Crowley nodded. "I'm no saint, angel. I know how to lie to them when I need to."

A heavy silence fell between the two for several seconds. "Well, in the interest of safety..." Aziraphale conceded as he marched around Crowley to close the shop door. He cleared his throat as he turned back toward the demon. "Right, ehm, come this way." He led Crowley through the building until they reached a dimly lit corner, unseen through any of the shops windows and hidden by a rather full bookshelf. "Where do you want me to kiss you?" he asked quietly once they were well out of sight from potential prying eyes.

 _Everywhere,_ Crowley thought to himself. "My face, and some humans have freckles down their neck, so... yeah." 

"Alright." Aziraphale said. The secrecy of the location made what they were about to do feel all the more scandalous, and he tried to calm down the butterflies in his stomach. This was fine, he told himself. They were just going to have what would eventually be known as a one-sided make-out session in order to hide their friendship from their superiors. Nothing scandalous about any of it. "Are you sure you're alright with this?" 

"Course. Why not? 'S in the interest of safety and all that." Crowley stammered, leaning back against the shelf that hid them. "Besides, 's not like there's another way." 

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Aziraphale moved forward until his body was flush against Crowley's. Resting his hands on the demons shoulders, he closed his eyes again as he pressed a gentle kiss under the patch of freckles he'd tried getting rid of just minutes ago. He pulled back an inch, just to make sure the freckles showed up, and then placed another kiss right beside that spot.

Crowley breathed in sharply as Aziraphale pressed a kiss next to his nose, losing himself in the sight, the feeling, the smell, the _sensation_ of this moment with Aziraphale. His lips were so soft, and it took every ounce of Crowley's self control to not turn and kiss back when Aziraphale's mouth brushed against the corner of his own.

Another kiss, this time just above his jawline. 

Suddenly very aware of his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides, Crowley wondered whether he ought to do something with them. He mentally debated putting his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders, like what the angel had done to him. Or maybe around Aziraphale's waist, that was something people usually did in this situation, right? Did people get in this situation? Probably not, people weren't usually a demon pinned between a bookshelf and their best friend who was repeatedly kissing freckles onto their face. 

He gripped the ledges of the shelf behind him.

After one more kiss to his cheekbone, Aziraphale pulled away once more, making Crowley tilt his head forward in want of more.

"Crowley," Aziraphale murmured, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed. "Would you mind terribly if I removed your glasses? They're... quite obstructive."

"Yeah, no, g-go ahead, sure." Crowley stuttered. His heart raced as Aziraphale hooked a finger around the bridge of his glasses, carefully sliding them off his face and setting them between two books on the shelf behind him. 

"Thank you." Aziraphale said, kissing Crowley's cheek one more time to finish covering that side of his face in freckles. He retreated a bit to look over his handiwork, only for his gaze to linger on Crowley's eyes. He'd always found Crowley's eyes particularly beautiful, and he always enjoyed getting to see them. Looking into them now in this precarious, intimate, wonderful moment felt incredibly special. 

Crowley turned his head to the other side, bringing Aziraphale out of his thoughts. "Go on, angel." he whispered. His eyes slipped shut as Aziraphale cradled his head in one hand, tried not to lean into the touch as Aziraphale pressed earnest kisses all over his other cheek. Hesitantly, his arms snaked around the angels waist, waiting for Aziraphale to tell him not to, that this was dangerous enough already, and not to make this, whatever this was, something it wasn't.

Those objections never came.

Instead, Aziraphale tensed for just a second before relaxing into the embrace, persisting to kiss his way down Crowley's face. 

A minute passed, during which Aziraphale must have finished with his face because the next thing Crowley felt was Aziraphale's warm breath ghosting over the side of his neck, making him shudder ever so slightly. His eyes flew open when the angels lips touched where Crowley's neck met his shoulders, and a shaky gasp escaped his mouth without his permission. A hint of humiliation coiled in his stomach as Aziraphale pulled back to look at him in surprise.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd, ehm, be that sensitive."

"Don't say that," Crowley growled, attempting to sound irritated but coming across flustered more than anything else. "Demons aren't _sensitive._ "

Aziraphale made a noncommittal humming noise at that, tilting his head to the side. "Perhaps others are not, but you certainly seem to be. If you want, I can stop." 

Crowley shook his head minutely, wanting anything but to stop. He arched his neck to give Aziraphale a better angle and to also avoid eye contact. "You've gone this far already, might as well... y'know." 

The angel bit his lip, sending one last cautious glance upwards before leaning toward Crowley's neck once more.

Balling his hands into fists in Aziraphale's suit, Crowley sucked in a breath, vowing to not so much as flinch when Aziraphale touched his neck. His vow went completely out the window the second Aziraphale kissed him again, more carefully and passionately than any of the previous kisses. His body trembled for a second before he managed to get his corporation under control. He pressed his face into Aziraphale's shoulder in time to muffle a whine he couldn't suppress, and he became thankful for the angels body holding his up own against the shelf. 

Aziraphale left kiss after kiss up and down Crowley's neck, each one more intimate than the last. As he went on, he stopped backing up to place the next few freckles in another spot, simply dragging his lips along Crowley's neck between kisses, leaving Crowley to squirm and sigh and grip onto Aziraphale like he was the only thing keeping him from discorporation.

Neither entity were oblivious to the fact that this had become much more than simply 'helping Crowley lie to Hell' at this point, but both of them were too lost in the enjoyment of the moment to pay any mind. 

After what seemed like hours, Aziraphale had finished decorating Crowley's neck with a mass of freckles, and pulled away to look it over. Gently coaxing Crowley to look up, he took in the sight of Crowley's flushed, freckled face with awe. 

"You look beautiful, my dear boy." The words came out before he thought to say them, and his gaze roamed over all he'd done. His brow furrowed when his eyes landed on one particular freckle on Crowley's neck that overlapped with another.

"Wha... what is it?" 

"Oh, nothing, just one freckle is rather out of place."

Crowley let out an airy chuckle. "Ever the perfectionist." he said, releasing his grip on the angel. 

Aziraphale retracted one arm from around Crowley's shoulders, and without thinking made to snap the offending freckle away. His eyes widened to perfect circles when, to his surprise, the freckle acquiesced and disappeared. 

When it clicked what Aziraphale had done, Crowley raised a brow, then both brows as he realized the shock on Aziraphale's face could only mean one thing.

"You could've miracled them away the whole time?"

Speechless, Aziraphale nodded. A heavy silence hung in the air, broken a minute later by the both of them laughing at the whole predicament.

"Well..." Crowley trailed off, reaching back to take his glasses off the shelf, and putting them back on.

"Yes." Aziraphale concurred, wringing his hands. "Ah, I suppose I ought to remove them for real now?" He held his hand up, ready to snap the last fifteen minutes of work away.

"Nah, no, I'll keep 'em. Be a shame to undo everything after... all that." Crowley said, waving a hand vaguely between them. "And you went to all the trouble."

Aziraphale relaxed his fingers and lowered his arm, a fond smile spreading across his face. "It wasn't a trouble, Crowley."

Crowley cleared his throat and straightened out his suit, it having got creased and wrinkled while writhing against the shelf. "Well, I need to go commit a sin before I head back, so, ehm, thanks for... that." he stammered, stumbling around Aziraphale and heading for the shop door. "I'll see you around, angel." 

Aziraphale hastened to follow Crowley to the door, a bit startled by the sudden change in mood. "Oh, um, good-bye then." he called after him. He would've thought they ought to talk about what had just occurred, but looking back over the events of the day and everything they entailed, he could understand Crowley wanting to leave.

The demon waved over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.

Crowley made his way down a nearby alley and buried his now freckled face in his hands with a starstruck smile. So many conflicting emotions swirled through his chest as he thought about everything that had just happened. It had all been so risky, so unbearably intimate, nothing he'd ever admit to enjoying, but everything he'd wanted.

With a sigh, he miracled himself back to his home, where he was safe to lean against a wall, slowly slide down it, and sit on the floor, reminiscing over each kiss, every feeling that came with them, the sensation of being held up and treated so softly. The sensation of Aziraphale.

Hell would have to wait on any sin recount. Crowley was going to be a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Dunno about this ending, I feel like it's too rushed, but you know what? I'm publishing it anyway!
> 
> Title is a line from the song "I'll Cover You" off the Rent soundtrack. (Which, by the way, I'd discorporate to see a fanvid of these two using that song, it's absolutely perfect.)


End file.
